


Drabble #4 - “Marry me.”

by you_make_me_wander



Series: Birthday drabbles [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Birthday List, Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_make_me_wander/pseuds/you_make_me_wander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two strangers meet at a bar. Stydia AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble #4 - “Marry me.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Conchi, newtevans on tumblr. Everyone go check Conchi’s blog and wish happy birthday :)
> 
> I had fun writing this one.

“Marry me.”

At the raspy, hushed and certainly unexpected words, his head snaps to his right faster than he can really control, leaving him more lightheaded than he was already getting. “What?!” he spurts out in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed someone was sitting beside him at the bar.

The young woman huffs in frustration, fiery red curls cascading down her back beautifully and contrasting with her black simple dress. There’s no cleavage showing and her skirt ends just above her knees. The dress is short-sleeved, leaving him staring at how marvelous her porcelain skin tone is against the darkness of the fabric.

It looks like a dress appropriate for someone who works in an office, certainly not for someone who’s sitting at a bar, seemingly alone and drowning her sorrows on hard liquor, talking to strangers. But then again, he can't judge. He’s doing pretty much the same thing. He guesses she’s about his age but looks a little bit older, worn-out, tired. When she says nothing, he lets out “Excuse me?”

She sits straighter, finishing the rest of her Jack in one large swig and placing the glass back on the counter before fully turning to the man she so indecently just proposed to. “Marry. Me.” She enunciates both words slowly like she’s daring him to say anything other than yes. If he does, she might just lose her mind and scream.

The man finishes his beer as well before glaring back at the woman, dumbfounded. “Are you seriously proposing to a random stranger in some shitty bar in the middle of nowhere just out of State Route 1?” He ignores the pointed look the bartender gives him.

“I am. I thought it was pretty obvious,” she remarks matter-of-factly, already signaling the bartender to fill her glass again.

The brown-haired man follows her lead and asks for another beer, a sly smirk appearing on his lips. He’s so thankful for the distraction right now he could kiss her. “What makes you think I’d marry you?”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t?” she bites back with a smile, crossing her legs and catching his attention.

He blushes despite himself, grabbing the new beer as soon as it is within reach and taking another sip to hide his nerves before playing along. “You’re obviously out of my league. Why would you ever consider me a suitable candidate?”

The woman sighs in early defeat. She’s beautiful and she’s confident; she should be able to ask a stranger to marry her and to have him accept without hesitation or further enquiry. Instead, even though the man seems to have wit and is easy on the eyes, he seems insecure, almost self-conscious in a way, and he’s not really falling on her net. _Just her luck_. “Great. This day just keeps getting better. Now I can’t even pick up a guy at a bar,” she mumbles to herself, facing away from him and bringing her now full glass to her lips once more, clearly bothered.

He’s lucky that he wasn’t drinking when she said that; he’d probably spat out his beer. “What?” He chuckles, breaking the tension. “Is that how you pick up guys at bars? Seriously? That’s your go-to move?”

The woman scowls at him. “No, of course not! I just- You know what, forget it,” she murmurs, turning her attention fully to her drink, quickly getting lost in thought.

He watches her carefully as she does so, tucking her hair behind her ears and then tapping her fingers on the glass restlessly, a gorgeous shade of pink adorning her cheeks as she’s left embarrassed. The man decides to put her at ease. It’s not like he’s got anything better to do and it’s a good distraction from his problems, at least until he has to leave in a bit. God knows he needs it. And well… She started it. “What’s your story?”

The woman glances at him curiously and decides to humor him, laying out the facts as they are. She made her own bed, after all. “I was engaged to a guy I barely knew because my parents thought he’d be an amazing trophy as a first husband. It's great for a 25 year old, right? _Socialites_ …” she hisses under her breath, briefly making a despising face before continuing. “Anyway, I had it all worked out to fled the scene in the middle of the ceremony just to get back at my parents, you know? Turns out the joke is on me because the guy left the church before I could. He didn’t want to marry me either. I just ran the other way and got the hell out of there too. Took the first bus I could find, now I’m here,” she says nonchalantly, bringing her Jack to her lips once again.

He gawks at her in disbelief. “You were left at the altar?” She nods. “I find that hard to believe…” He can’t really tell why but intuitive as he is by nature, he’s positive that she’s telling him the truth and that only makes him more curious. He looks blatantly at her from head to toe, taking her in. “Wait. When was that?”

The woman checks her watch. “About four hours ago, give or take.”

He’s suspicious. “And you literally just ran out of the church where you had been left unmarried and took the first bus you found?”

She notices how he’s searching for something in her story. What exactly, she wouldn’t know. “Well, I only grabbed my luggage before I left.” She looks down to her right and he follows her gaze, finding a travel suitcase he hadn’t noticed there before. “I’d hidden it in an adjacent room. I’ve got everything I need with me.”

“Everything you need to…?”

“To run away.” She doesn’t quite meet his gaze when she says that. “To start over.”

Her features turn sad and so he doesn’t push it. Instead, maybe a little banter will lighten up her mood. A beautiful girl like her shouldn’t be sad. “You’ll have to tell me how you managed to get your wedding dress in that suitcase along with all the other things you’d need to start a new life from scratch, because there’s no way a big, fancy dress would fit in there.”

She eyes him interestedly once more to find that he’s not making a snarky remark or judging her in any way. His goofy grin seems genuine. “Oh, my wedding dress is not in there.”

His mouth falls open again at how unpredictable the attractive stranger is. He likes her. “You got rid of your dress?” he asks disbelieving, imagining that a treasure like the girl in front of him deserves the best of the best, and he’d bet his life that her dress would have been one of the most extravagant to ever exist, and it wouldn't still probably be worthy of her.

The corners of her lips turn up to form a smug smile and she turns to face him completely again. “Who said anything about getting rid of it?” At his confused expression, her lips fall into the most adorable knowing pout he’s ever seen and she dares let her hand fall boldly to rest on one of his knees for a little while before starting to slide it just the tiniest bit up. She watches him swallow dryly and place his beer on the counter as if he can’t hold it in his hand of his own accord. “I’m really fond of _this_ dress.”

He tries his best to control his emotions at her touch. “Are you kidding?” She shakes her head playfully, smiling sincerely for the first time since she met him. “You were going to get married in _that_?”

The woman shrugs her shoulders and straightens up on her seat, amused, licking her lips absently when he takes another swig of his drink. “I stomped my foot but choosing the dress was literally the only detail I was allowed to take care of for my own wedding. I kept feeling like I was going to a funeral, so I figured I should dress accordingly.”

This time he does choke on his beer and she laughs, and it’s such a beautiful sound that he wants nothing but to hear it again. “Oh my god, are you serious?” She just laughs harder, pushing her drink away before she spills it. He grabs a napkin and cleans himself up, giving up on his beer too. “You know what? I like you,” he tells her off-handedly before turning a shameful red, realizing the words that came out of his mouth. “I- I mean…”

She cuts him off with a wink and a smirk. “Of course you do.”

He narrows his eyes at her but soon he’s laughing along, infected by how contagious she can be. “Where are you headed to?”

She fixes her dress and offers him a shy smile. No one has made her feel like this in ages. “Nowhere.” She purses her lips. “Somewhere. I don’t really know. Wherever the next bus will take me, I guess.” She sees something in his eyes at her answer that she wasn’t entirely expecting. Recognition. The mood between them changes just like that. She can only murmur. “Where are _you_ headed?”

He feels exposed under her gaze but revels in the way that he finds how she’s smart. He hasn’t met many smart women before. “Nowhere. Somewhere too.” She scowls first but end ups smiling softly at his choice of words.

She rests her hands on her lap and taps her fingers, at peace for once. “And what’s _your_ story?”

He gets up from his seat to stand close to her and whisper in her ear. If she wants to play, she should know he’s well aware of what his moves are. “Now you’d have to get me way drunker than I am right now to hear all about my story, princess.”

His voice comes out hoarse, his breath brushing her skin like a sin, and so she finds herself squeezing her thighs together and biting on her lower lip instantly. She looks over her shoulder to find him right there, too enticingly close. She all but hums to his lips. “I’m buying your next drink, then.”

He lets out a laugh, the fingers of his left hand brushing hers tentatively before he checks the time and is reminded that he can't stop. Either he's on the road with a blank mind or everything will come crushing down on him and he can't have that, not yet. He's been ignoring it so far and has no intentions of giving in to the pain anytime soon. “I’d love that, but I should get going.”

“To _nowhere_?” she asks unabashed.

“Yes. Gotta hit the road, you know?”

Her smile vanishes promptly, and she allows herself to hold his hand in hers, suddenly reminded that everyone leaves her, everyone keeps leaving her. She’s the one always being left behind and forgotten and she's tired of it. She doesn’t want that anymore. “Are you running away too?”

Her words are but a whisper but they still hit him hard in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He’s been ignoring the reason he left home for the past week and this stranger saw right through him in less than ten minutes. He tenses visibly and she just holds his hand more firmly. “In a way, yes.”

His whiskey eyes show such vulnerability for a second that she’s left stiff, barely breathing. She can’t remember a time she’s ever been shown such a genuine emotion. Her world is full of lies, has always been, and this interaction right here and now is the most real she’s ever had. And she wants more. “Would you mind some company?”

The question takes him by surprise and he holds her gaze for a moment too long, searching for any signs of mockery or judgement. He finds none but his tone still turns serious. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” Because he’s a wreck, he should tell her. Because he has no one back home waiting for him, because his life ended a week ago along with his parents’, because he can’t imagine a future at all for him right now. He’s barely living in the moment.

His words were murmured, hushed, and absently he got closer to her, his right hand subtly resting on her waist, the other still grasping her hand like he needs her to ground himself. Similarly, she’s doing the same thing. Noticing him looking down at her with watery eyes, she finds that he might just be as damaged as she is, maybe more. She’s not sure what compels her to lean forward, but in a second they’re almost lips on lips, their breaths uneven. They are looking at the other like they’ve never looked at anyone before. It scares them and encourages them at the same time. “Neither would you, if you said _yes_.”

He finds himself nodding, and in two minutes he’s paid for both their drinks, grabbed her suitcase and entwined his fingers with hers, leading her in the direction of his beat-up Jeep, a present from his dad that is a constant reminder of how alone he really is now, but he can’t find it in his heart to get rid of it.

He sits behind the wheel and revels in the way she takes off her shoes and pulls her hair up in a ponytail as soon as she’s settled too, making herself comfortable like she belongs there. And just maybe she does. “I’m guessing this is not your vehicle of choice, but it runs. And it’s all I have.”

She doesn’t know that he really means that, but she’s starting to suspect as much. She turns back to find his trunk completely full, now that her luggage is there to fit in the only space he had that wasn't occupied, like a missing puzzle piece. “I like it,” she murmurs honestly, a small smile on her lips. Who is she to judge anything, anyway?

He nods in acknowledgment, his hand moving to the ignition to start the engine but before he turns the key, he speaks so lowly she barely hears him. He keeps his gaze on his dash. “Can we…” He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t allowed himself to think much about recent events and now is not the time to do so. “Can we keep any heavy talk for some other time?” Because he can already tell that it’s where this is going, whatever this is. Eventually one or both of them will open up and let their guards down and he feels like he can’t breathe just thinking about it, and there’s no way he’ll be able to drive on the edge of a panic attack.

She nods fiercely because she feels it too, not any less nor more than him, just differently. Irrevocable loss. “Banter it is then,” she offers with a half-jiggle to dissipate the tension, reaching for his radio to find a station of her liking.

She still notices the stray tear that escapes his eye because he isn’t quick enough to wipe it away, or maybe he just doesn't care that she sees it, but she doesn’t comment on it. He gets the Jeep working and turns to her, offering the woman a grin that would have her weak on the knees would she be standing. “Where to?”

“You’re letting me choose?”

He tilts his head a little, a lopsided smirk making its way to his lips. “Apparently. Only this one time, though.” She rolls her eyes but he can see her smile before turning to the road in front of them, right out of the parking lot. “Left or right?”

She decides with right, if anything for what she’s feeling after meeting him. “I’m Lydia, by the way.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. “Stiles.” She makes a face and he chuckles. “What? It’s a nickname.”

She laughs wholeheartedly, turning to face him slightly on her seat. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He glances at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road, his cheeks turning pink and mirroring hers. “Likewise.” They stay in comfortable silence after that for a while, and he just drives. To where, he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t care. "By the way, I'm not that drunk or anything. I was just-" He scratches the back of his neck. "You know, teasing you..."

She chuckles and he feels more relaxed instantly. "I know. You were having those low alcohol beers. I noticed."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. Mostly in awe, really. "You really _are_ smart, aren't you?"

She grins. "A certified genius."

"Then it definitely is a pleasure meeting you," he says, blushing harder. "But just so you know, this is by no means at all you picking me up at a bar, alright?”

She licks her lips absently again, offering him a devious grin even if, deep down, she knows he’s right. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. I’m not marrying you, though,” he remarks playfully.

This time, the joke is on him.

* * *

 

It takes them 87 hours. 87 hours of teasing, sarcastic comments back and forth, heartfelt laughs and deep conversations in between contented silences. 87 hours since the start of a road trip to nowhere and somewhere filled with lazy driving, bad fast food and shitty motels. 87 hours until they fall in bed together and share their most private secrets and thoughts in the dead of night, their stories out in the open, hiding away from the world in a place they’d never heard of before.

And it’s only the beginning.

Mending the other’s wrongs, getting to know each other in a level they can’t begin to comprehend, helping the other get better and be better with time, they settle on a small, welcoming town far away from their demons, starting their life together not long after that. With new jobs and new friends, coming home to the other is the best thing they’ve had in a while. They wouldn’t want it any other way.

Two years later, he’s putting a ring on her finger.

They go on a road trip once a year to celebrate.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review :)


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